


Viva Espresso (Barista!Lance x Hunk)

by Voltron_Garbage



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Barista Lance, Coffee Shop, Hance - Freeform, M/M, Pidge - Freeform, Shiro - Freeform, Voltron, good memes, hippie hunk, hunk - Freeform, hunk is a hipster and attempts to flirt, i probably ended this one too soon, keith - Freeform, lance - Freeform, lance is oblivious and probably adhd, lance mcclain - Freeform, the outcome is underwhelming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voltron_Garbage/pseuds/Voltron_Garbage
Summary: Lance works a 9-5 job at a nearly-closed espresso bar, and stares death by boredom in the face regularly. A jumpy stranger may be the only excitement he gets from his job.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quickie I wrote in about an hour. This is actually the first fanfic I have written in 4 years, so keep that in mind whilst you read.

Lance’s eyes fleeted mundanely to the approaching customer, droning on his opening line like he had done it a million times, which he had.  
“Welcome to Espresso-to-go. What can I get ya’?” Lance leaned his elbow casually on the counter before inspecting the metrosexual-esque customer. He looked almost exactly the same as all of the other customers, not by appearance, but by demeanor. He kept his hands in his pockets, he seemed purposely (almost forcefully) disinterested, the kind of guy that you’d either see running a fashion Tumblr page or hitting a bong next to a Walmart. The grunge-revival makes it hard to tell around these parts, and between the vest and the awful headband, Lance couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how hard he tried to look like he didn’t care.  
The skittish patron didn’t respond the first time Lance recited his Espresso-to-go bit. He still looked a little nervous, but winding down nonetheless.  
“Have you been here before?” Lance asked, hoping to break the painful silence. Of course it was always silent in the dying cafe, which was the worst part of the job for him. He didn’t mind the horrible hours or the abundance of ‘nonfat-soymilk-doublefoamed-stevia-latte’ customers, it was the utter boredom of spending up to 2 hours at the empty shop with nobody to talk to.  
“Huh? OH!” The man jumped, startled. He scratched the back of his head and giggled a little “Sorry about that, no, nope! First time!” He was speaking at 200-miles-per-hour. He took a deep breath, releasing tension on the exhale  
“Do you know what you wanna order?”  
“Depends, what’s good?” His tone was calmer, and more playful. Lance was quick to notice the change, and took the opportunity to alleviate his boredom  
“Wellllll…” Lance turned around with a quick burst of energy and looked at the menu on the chalkboard behind him “Lotsa people like the almond-milk latte.”  
“Gross…” He muttered. Lance heard it only slightly behind his turned back.  
“Right?” Lance faced the patron once more, this time getting used to having the company. “Some people say ‘it’s actually good’ or something, but the aftertaste kills me!”  
“I couldn’t live if I was lactose intolerant!” He announced, somewhat mirroring Lance’s energy. Lance gave out a yelp of laughter, before the dreaded silence crept back over the shop.  
“Nah, but the Mocha is the only good thing on the menu. I shouldn’t say this, but I hate the coffee here.”  
“I’ll take a large mocha, then.”  
Lance picked up the large cup and began to steam some milk  
“Are you not going to ask for my name?” The customer chirped in, smiling with the same nervous grin, a smile that Lance began to find familiar. It seemed almost like a genuine question, but Lance was oblivious to flirting. He was a textbook example of somebody who could dish it but not take it.  
“You’re the only one… here?” Lance asked, looking actually puzzled. It wasn’t until the pudgy brunette’s expression dropped that Lance quickly noticed what was happening, and quickly buzzed “What’s your name?”  
“Hunk.”  
“Hunk? Well, I noticed that one to begin with, no need to toot your own horn!” Lance laughed at his own joke, while a hint of a blush crept onto Hunk’s dark skin  
“Lance McClain.” He introduced himself, holding Hunk’s coffee, while Hunk pulled out his credit card.  
“Woah, woah, stop that. I’ve got this one. On the house.” Lance knew that he didn’t get any free drinks and he’d have to pay for it, but he didn’t mind. Hunk’s company was worth the $6.50.  
“Really man? Thank you so much!” Hunk smiled one final time and took the coffee. Their hands brushed, making them both turn the other way nervously. “Well, yeah, thanks…” Hunk reverted back to the antsy state that he was in when he entered the shop, and started the venture towards the exit, which felt about a mile away.  
Lance quickly ran out of the granite prison of the barista stand and grabbed Hunk’s shoulder. “Wait!” He yelled, even though Hunk was right in front of him, before murmuring nervously “lets get lunch sometime.”


End file.
